


Close Encounters

by riisvay



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 20:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7728874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riisvay/pseuds/riisvay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in the Nevada desert, Jesse McCree makes first contact.</p><p>... well, maybe not exactly first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> A short birthday present for @grotusque on Tumblr! Two of her faves that I'm pretty sure would hit it off so well :o

It was in pretty good condition, for its age. A little dusty and banged up, but out here in the desert, that was par for the course. If you had the money to keep your car looking good, you could probably afford something better than an ancient Jeep.

  
All in all, Jesse thought to himself, he was probably doing the owner a favor by stealing the damn thing. Whatever money they got from their insurance for the theft would probably be more than what the Jeep was worth in the first place, and he'd have a mode of transportation a little less conspicuous than bus and train.

  
He'd arrived in Boulder City that morning to the news that his bounty had gone up again. Second time in as many weeks, and he was starting to think that the last job he'd taken freelancing was ending up to be more trouble than it was worth. Hadn't gotten paid enough anyway.

  
He whistled under his breath as he got to work underneath the dash. The Jeep was so old that it still had an old-fashioned wiring instead of a completely digital system and onboard computer. Good news for him, then; he'd had plenty of practice on cars like this back in his Deadlock days. A quick glance under the hood had already revealed that everything seemed to be in working order-- better than that, really, most parts of the engine looked almost brand new. Probably should make him feel bad, that he was about steal what was obviously someone's fix-up project, but then again, Jesse McCree couldn't say he'd made it this far in life worrying about little details like that. Right now he had the eight-hour drive to Reno and his next job to worry about.  
  


* * *

  
Three hours later, and if you had asked, Jesse could not rightly tell you what that job had been. In fact, Jesse was currently not in the best position to be telling anyone anything, on his ass in the dirt on the side of the highway, aiming his pistol at the biggest fucking omnic he'd seen in years.  
  
The last time he'd seen one that tall had been, shit, Blackwatch ops, during the Crisis, and that was exactly why it was _illegal_ to build them that big anymore, and it was looking down at him with unblinking blue eyes, and he was trying not to admit to himself that his hand was shaking slightly, because if this thing wanted him dead then he was fucking _dead_.  
He'd made a brief pit stop to take a piss, and not thirty seconds after he'd turned his back on the Jeep, there'd been a sound of grinding, squealing metal, and the Jeep had exploded into the thing standing in front of him.  
  
For agonizing seconds, they just stared at each other, unmoving, before the omnic lowered itself into a crouch slowly, bringing its hands up, palms out. "I'm unarmed." He flinched at its fluid, mechanical voice.  
  
"I can't say that makes much of a difference in this situation, pal." The thing could flatten him in an instant, it didn't need ammo to do that.  
  
The omnic shuffled backwards, giving him more space. "Jesse McCree."  
  
"Who's askin'?  
  
"Well..." It hesitated, lowering its hands. He could hear the whine of gears even from where he sat. "Jesse McCree, formerly of Overwatch. That's you, isn't it."  
  
"Can't say I've got too many omnic friends that would looking for me." He still hadn't lowered his gun.  
  
"I'm not an omnic." That got a startled laugh out of Jesse.  
  
"Buddy, I have got some news for you--"  
  
"No, no. I mean, I'm not-- I'm not from here. From Earth."  
  
God, and he hadn't even started drinking yet today. "From Earth," Jesse repeated, incredulous.  
  
The omnic-- robot, alien, whatever it was, heaved what sounded suspiciously like a sigh. "Please put your gun down. I can explain."  
  


* * *

  
"Explaining" took just about as long as one would expect, and through most of it Jesse still wasn't sure he was sure he believed it-- _Hound_ , it had said its name was. After a while, though, Hound had cracked a bit of a smile, made a joke, and Jesse had... relaxed, a bit. After that, things got a little easier. If Hound had been some guy he'd just met in a bar, they probably would have hit it off immediately. 

"... so after that, we decided that it was better to deal with with a planet's international organizations instead of trying to deal with each individual government." Hound shrugged, and Jesse watched the mech's plating shift and ripple from where he sat in the shade of a large boulder. They'd since moved away from the road, out of the way of anybody who could have driven by. "Turns out politics are really the same no matter what your biology is."  
  
Jesse snorted. "Probably could have told you that. Though really, if you folks are looking to deal with Overwatch, y'all've got--- 'scuze me-- a little bit of a problem." His phone was buzzing in his pocket, and he pulled it out and hit the power button to ignore the call, annoyed. He had no idea how he was getting a signal out here, but whatever it was, it could wait.  
  
"Not as much as you might think."  
  
"Considering more'n' half of us are dead and the other half are in hiding--"  
  
"What was that message you got just now?" "--pardon?"  
  
"Your phone."  
  
... well, someone was easily distracted. "Does that really matter right n--"  
  
"Just look."  
  
Frowning, Jesse glanced down at the device and powered it back up. It immediately informed him that he had one missed message. It was one word, from a number that he hadn't seen in years.  
  
_Recall_.


End file.
